If you’ve heard your son talking about "mewing" (pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth to sharpen your jawline) or "canthal tilt" (the angle of your eyes), you’ve officially entered the world of looksmaxxing.

Originally birthed in some of the darker corners of the internet, looksmaxxing is the practice of "maximizing" one's physical attractiveness through various methods. It’s broken down into "softmaxxing" (basic hygiene, skincare, haircuts, and hitting the gym) and "hardmaxxing" (plastic surgery, steroid use, or extreme dieting).

While taking care of yourself is great, the trend often turns into a hyper-fixation on perceived "flaws" that most humans wouldn't even notice. It’s the male-coded version of the "clean girl" aesthetic or the "Instagram face" that has plagued girls for years. It turns the human body into a character sheet in a video game where you're constantly trying to level up your stats.

It’s about control and community. Middle and high school are periods of peak insecurity. Looksmaxxing provides a "manual" for how to be attractive, complete with specific steps and a community of peers (mostly on TikTok and YouTube) who are all chasing the same impossible standard.

While the boys are worrying about their jawlines, a different beast is roaming the feeds of many girls: SkinnyTok. After a few years of "body positivity" being the dominant trend, the pendulum has swung back toward extreme thinness.

Algorithms on TikTok and Instagram are incredibly efficient—and sometimes incredibly dangerous. If a child lingers on a "What I Eat in a Day" video that features nothing but black coffee and a rice cake, the algorithm will serve them ten more just like it. This creates a digital echo chamber where disordered eating is normalized and even celebrated.

Learn more about how the TikTok algorithm works

You might have heard your kid say someone has "negative aura" or that they just gained "1,000 aura points" for doing something cool. While "aura" is generally just Gen Alpha/Gen Z slang for "vibe" or social capital, it’s increasingly tied to appearance.

In the digital world, your "aura" is often curated through highly edited photos and specific fashion choices. It’s the gamification of social status. If you don't look the part, you lose points. It sounds silly to us, but for a 13-year-old, "aura" is the currency of the school hallway.

We need to talk about the "Bold Glamour" filter and its successors. We aren't just talking about dog ears and sparkles anymore. Modern AI filters on Snapchat and TikTok perform digital plastic surgery in real-time. They sharpen jawlines, brighten eyes, and clear skin so perfectly that the human brain—especially a developing one—starts to view the filtered version as the "real" self and the mirror version as the "broken" one.

To combat the "perfection" of social media, we need to introduce media that celebrates being a messy, imperfect human.

Ages 13+ While not perfect, BeReal is the antithesis of the curated Instagram feed. It forces users to take a photo of whatever they are doing at a random time of day, using both the front and back cameras, with no filters allowed. It shows kids that their friends are also just sitting on the couch in sweatpants, not living in a permanent photoshoot.

Ages 12+ This show is a breath of fresh air. It features actual teenagers (not 30-year-olds playing teens) with various body types, and it deals with mental health and eating disorders with incredible sensitivity. It’s a great conversation starter about how we treat our bodies and each other.

Ages 13+ When used correctly, Pinterest can be a healthier alternative to Instagram. Because it’s more about interests than influencers, kids can use it to curate "vision boards" for hobbies, art, or room decor rather than just scrolling through photos of people who look "better" than them. Check out our guide on making Pinterest safe for teens

Ages 14+ Sonya Renee Taylor’s work on "radical self-love" is transformative. The YA version of this book is essential reading for teens who are struggling with the pressure to conform. It moves the conversation from "how do I look?" to "what can my body do and how can I honor it?"

The concern here is the "Sephora Kid" phenomenon. We’re seeing 9-year-olds asking for $70 retinol creams because they saw them on YouTube.

This is the peak danger zone for looksmaxxing and AI filter obsession.

The focus often shifts to "fitness" which can mask orthorexia (an obsession with healthy eating) or steroid use.

When you see your kid staring at their reflection or using a heavy filter, don't lead with "You're beautiful just the way you are." It’s a nice sentiment, but to a kid deep in the "aura" economy, it feels like a platitude.

Instead, try these:

Ask our chatbot for more conversation starters about body image

The digital world has turned the "awkward phase" of puberty into a public, high-stakes competition. Between looksmaxxing and AI filters, our kids are being told that their natural faces and bodies are just "starting points" to be optimized.

Our job isn't to ban the tech—that’s a losing battle. Our job is to be the reality check. We need to be the voice that reminds them that a "jawline" doesn't make a person interesting, and that "aura" is actually built through character, kindness, and being a real person in a very filtered world.

Check out our guide on the best hobby-based YouTube channels for teens